


Quia Parata Sunt Omnia

by ThatVermilionFlyCatcher



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, fix it for 7x22, kind of, post 7x22
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-05-08 22:28:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14703738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatVermilionFlyCatcher/pseuds/ThatVermilionFlyCatcher
Summary: Rumple in the afterlife after his last scene on 7x22.





	Quia Parata Sunt Omnia

He closed his eyes, the feeling of being with her again too real and too surreal at the same time. How could the soul feel, and feel better and more intensely that the body ever did?

“I love you, I love you so much…” he finally managed to say, pulling her into a tight hug.

And the hug felt like no hug on earth could feel: a union the soul panted for, but the body, that made it possible, made it impossible at the same time. And all the relief and the love that had been until then imprisoned inside him were released in the sweetest tears of joy he had ever cried.

“Rumple…”

He opened his eyes to look through his tears the face he had missed so much, and behind it…

He looked around and found himself in a meadow, full of flowers the like he had never seen in his life. the meadow was surrounded by mountains, with little streams coming down from the top and giving life to the trees on the hillsides. The sun shone high on the sky, bathing everything with its light. Rumple thought of taking off his jacket, and found himself wearing a lightweight suit. Belle laughed at his amazement.

“It’s not magic. It’s Heaven. You’ll get used to it.”

He nodded, feeling lightheaded.

“Come on, I know we have all eternity, but I know you want to hurry to this.”

“Is… Is Bae here?”

She nodded and gave him the biggest smile. He felt like he was going to explode of happiness. In a blink, the meadow transformed into a picnic. An enormous picnic. Rumple hadn’t seen so many people together in one place, and he had seen entire kingdoms rise and fall.

Long, long tables filled with the most exquisite food, of all kinds possible, stood here and there, right and left, and the people gathered close to them or on blankets under the trees. There was so much color and light and music and cheerful sounds everywhere that Rumple was sure it would actually kill any mortal.  _No man can see the face of God and live,_  the ancient said, and with reason, it seemed.

“Come on, Rumple, come with me,” Belle tugged at his sleeve, and they ran together across the meadow, not colliding with other people by miracle… or because they were souls and the soul in Heaven never fails the command of it’s own will.  _I’m going to see Bae again_ , Rumple repeated to himself, as if he couldn’t believe it. Wasn’t it yesterday when he saw him for the first time? When he hugged him for the last time? When they said their goodbyes? 300 years seemed like nothing from the point of view of eternity. Where was the pain? The anger? The rancor? Gone, gone, as if it had been no more than a handful of straw caught by the wind.

A willow tree came into sight, and under it, a group of people chatting cheerfully around a golden and burgundy blanket. One of them stood up and ran towards them, his bright smile filling his face.

“Papa!”

Rumple felt his whole body shake like an earthquake when he heard the voice of his son, of his boy. And after the voice came his whole presence, embracing him, warming him up.

“Bae… Bae…” he couldn’t stop streaking his back and his head. He couldn’t find the words to express himself, but he knew, he _felt_  that Neal could understand everything that couldn’t be said, everything that was to precious for words.

“You did it, pops. You are amazing. You tore the world apart to find me, and then your curse and death to get back to us.”

“I wouldn’t have made it here if not for you,” Rumple answered patting his son’s back and squeezing Belle’s hand.

“Rumple, sweetie, come over and give your aunts a kiss,” a woman said loudly from her spot beside the blanket, and Rumple stared wide eyed at the spinsters.

“Catherine? Barbara?”

He didn’t wait for an answer: he just ran towards them the same way he had all those years back when he still was a boy, and kneeling on the grass, hugged them and kissed them with the simplicity of the one who isn’t ashamed or afraid of looking like a child.

“Let me look at you,” Barbara said, taking his face between her hands and studying him, Rumple letting her do. “You have turned into quite the handsome man, don’t you think, Catherine?”

“That, he has. And a good man, too. I wouldn’t have settled for less.”

It was then that Rumple noticed another lady behind them. Her eyes were brown and warm, and they matched the cascade of familiar chestnut hair and even the even more familiar smile addressed at him…

“What do you think, mother?” Belle’s voice ringed playfully in his ears.

“I think,” Lady Colette said mischievously. “I approve of your choice.”

Belle materialized beside her mom, and putting an arm around her shoulders, extended her other hand towards Rumple, pulling him into a three people hug. He wouldn’t ever get tired of Heaven hugs. Never.

“Thank you,” the lady added in a more serious tone, “for making my Belle happy.”

“I… I… I didn’t deserve her. Without her, I would have been lost.”

“And now, here you are,” Belle chimed in, pulling him to herself. “My handsome hero.”

“It wasn’t really that spectacular. I made many mistakes.”

“It was quite the feat, actually. I was impressed.”

Rumple turned to look at the voice and found Robin Hood flashing a cocky grin and Maid Marian sitting on the grass beside him. Neal was barely refraining his laughter in the background.

“We saw everything,” Marian intervened. “We came to see Belle and your son, and share with them a glimpse of our Roland.”

“You talk about him as if he were still a four year old child.”

“He will always be my baby,” she retorted, elbowing a snickering Robin.

Rumple didn’t ask for how long had they been there watching. How much time had passed since his arrival? A second? Five minutes? A hundred years? There was no way to know.

“Look at him,” Marian said to Rumplestiltskin, moving her hand in circles over the ground and creating what looked like a big puddle of water.

 _Heaven, not magic_ , Rumple reminded himself. The surface of the water showed a handsome man, all curls and white teeth, walking pensively through the forest, a quiver hung across his back and an arrow in his hand. An aged monk walked by his side.

“Who would have said that our own friar Tuck would turn into a frail scrawny elder?” Asked Robin wistfully.

“He is bound to join us soon,” Marian reminded him.

“I’m going to bear-hug him, even if I have to chase him through the whole Heaven.”

Everyone laughed and Neal intervened, mocking Robin’s mannerisms:

“I’m just waiting to see pops trying to bear-hug Dove. THAT is going to be a sight to behold.”

“Dove? My good old Mr. Dove?”

“He is taking care of your business, just as you told him to. He’s going for the “ _thou good and faithful servant, enter thou into the joy of your lord_ ,” reception here, I guess.”

Another round of laughter followed that statement and Rumple imitated Marian’s gesture, eager to see his henchman in action. The puddle showed him the man standing behind the counter, polishing a silver teapot and refusing to sell cheap one of the guitars on display. He couldn’t help but laugh at his employee’s quirkiness. He would try to watch the moment in which they tried to convince him that his employer was dead. As if such an irrelevant detail could make his loyalty waver. Ha. But now he needed to see something else. He turned to Belle and asked:

“Our son…?”

“He’s doing great. He’s a mighty professor now,” Belle answered with a reassuring smile.

Rumple turned his hand over the puddle and it showed a middle aged Gideon giving a lecture. A room full of students had their eyes fixed on him, following his every word. Tears formed in Rumple’s eyes as he saw the light in those of his son: he was his mother’s boy. Belle squeezed his arm, and there were tears in her eyes, but not pain, there was no pain, just pride, joy and longing.

_Here vigour failed the lofty fantasy:  
But now was turning my desire and will,_

Gideon’s voice recited from the puddle, his hand discretely drawing for a second towards the locket that hid his family’s picture.

**_Even as a wheel that equally is moved,  
The Love which moves the sun and the other stars. _ **

**Author's Note:**

> You guessed it, the verses are from Dante's Divina Commedia, Paradiso, XXXIII.


End file.
